


blank canvas

by riposte (pistolgrip)



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 22:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/riposte
Summary: Six approaches him with a request for a new outfit for the mission, and Siete seizes his chance.





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**Author's Note:**

> power bottom punisher  
> for a friend, who asked for ~2300 words of.... well, something. thank you for letting me be self-indulgent!

Six approaches him with a request for a new outfit for the mission, and Siete seizes his chance. His only requirement is that it be comfortable to wear in battle while hiding his identity, and his ideas of how to honour that while creating something that lets Six hold his head high possesses him, scribbling down notes whenever he has time.

Six comes in for measurements and he lavishes every expanse of skin, every line of muscle with attention. Every time he kisses the open skin after taking measurements, Six scoffs. But he sees the flush rising against his skin, up his neck and face until his ears are twitching with embarrassment, and Siete wants nothing but to pause their measurements session and kiss every inch of skin with his full concentration.

But he can do that most any other night. Although showering Six with physical affection never gets old, it's rare for Six to allow him to outfit him like this. He takes his time dragging his lips over Six's skin, but he knows he's here for a more long-term goal than watching Six give into his ministrations in this moment.

Even as Six rolls his eyes, he lets his fingers draw shapes across his back, his arms, his legs, appreciative of the hard muscle he finds. Six wants something comfortable, but Siete wants him to know he's a king.

* * *

When Six wears the completed outfit for the first time, Siete can focus on the outfit as a whole instead of scrutinizing every detail to make sure it's perfect. The final product is tailored to Six's body like a dream, and he's left speechless, eyes roaming hungrily on his bare skin and the form-fitting fabric.

"You seem astonished about your own work. Haven't you been working on this for a while?" Six says, with a laugh in his voice. He keeps the mask on, sharp pale cyan fangs extending past his jawline, and it only makes his smirk sharper. He holds his head high with confidence as he looks down at Siete sitting at the edge of the bed.

"It's a little different to see it on my flesh and blood boyfriend than it is to see on a wire approximation of a body, you know." Siete already sounds humiliatingly out of breath from watching Six pace the room and look at himself in the mirror, and Six knows it.

Six walks over to him again, putting his knees on either side of Siete's waist, slowly sitting in his lap and grinding forward until there's no hint of space between them. Siete's hands immediately come up to his waist, up his back, tracing each knob of his spine. His fingers trip over the laces he'd crossed around Six's lower back, the one underneath his armpit and underneath his shoulder blades, and he kisses at Six's throat when he leans his head back.

Every single expanse of skin Six bares to him right now is intoxicating, and Siete doesn't know where to look or touch. He doesn't even think to remove Six's mask, so engrossed with his body that when he kisses Six again, it's with a smirk playing on his lips, the bite of Six's fangs into his lips as he deepens the kiss with fervor.

"You won't even tell me to take the mask off?" Six teases against his lips, moving down to kiss down the side of his neck.

"There's a lot going on," Siete says with difficulty. Six grinds down into his lap again before pushing him down.

He feels as though he's drowning when gravity presses Six's body weight against his, succumbing to Six's eager lips. He stays there, playing with the straps that fit like a second skin against his naked back, and then he puts his hands around Six's waist and turns them over so their positions are switched.

They've done little more than kissing and mild groping and Six already looks debauched, his kissed-red lips painting the edge of his smirk, his hair mussed against the faux-fur lining of his coat, his eyes sparkling bright with mischief. Siete lifts his hands to the mask and removes it, putting it off to the side. He caresses the hard line of Six's jaw with the back of his hand down to his chin.

Six never looks away as he moves his legs farther apart, inviting Siete to come closer.

"I can't tell if I just want to stare at you all day or kiss you," Siete says with reverence, eyes tracing across his handiwork hugging Six's body and leaving no room to imagination about his build. He doesn't even register the words tumble out of his mouth until Six's eyes curve in a sly smile.

"Your actions lead me to believe you have more planned than simply kissing." Six holds his chin higher, tilting his head to the side.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"Why are you always so cocky when we do this," Siete groans, and in response, he gets a toothy grin.

"You make it easy." He settles in among the covers, folding his hands against his stomach, the picture of relaxation. It's an invitation for Siete to pamper him even further.

Siete moves his hands to his hipbones, framed by the straps, rubbing circles into the skin there. His touch wanders underneath the front of Six's top, following the trail of fur from his bellybutton up to his chest, watching the form-fitting material stretch under his hands. The pleased smile remains on Six's face, and he looks on from under contented, half-lidded eyes.

Six had been shy at first about attention like this, but now he knows just how much power he holds over Siete. He could do anything in this moment and Siete would only love him more.

One hand still running through the soft fur on Six's body, he palms the front of his pants. It was complete self-indulgence that he'd designed it that way, because he knew he'd end up between Six's legs one way or another with this outfit on. But Six puts a hand on his shoulder, pushing him away. "Wait. Let me take the coat off."

"But it's nice," Siete whines, eyeing the fur trim and the way it caresses his cheeks.

At this, he gets a low chuckle. "It is. It'd be a shame if we made a mess of it."

The answer surprises him enough for his motions to still. "You'd want to keep it?"

Six's brows furrow, just slightly. "At risk of elevating your ego, your craftsmanship on it is immaculate." Siete laughs and leans down to capture his lips in a kiss, smiling unabashedly. "This is the opposite of allowing me to remove this coat."

"I can't be happy you actually like it?"

"Your surprise baffles me."

Siete gives him one more kiss before giving him space. Six slinks off the bed with the coat trailing behind him, the deliberately tattered edges lapping at his ankles. He removes it from his shoulders to reveal the expanse of his back, and drawn like a moth to flame, Siete gets up to walk towards him.

When he's close enough, he traces every muscle that moves with Six's motions again and again, drawing over the scars and leaving the impression of heat against the skin. Six tilts his head towards him as he hands up the coat. "You couldn't wait?"

"Of course not," Siete says, and his hands slip around his waist again, running his hands over his chest before slipping them underneath and groping lightly. Six leans his head back into the touches, purring with satisfaction.

"We have a bed," he suggests, his voice still low and steady but taking on the breathy edge of arousal. He grinds his ass back against the front of Siete's pants, and Siete turns them around and pushes him forward until they get to the edge of the bed. Six moves away from his touch, and Siete lets him.

He watches Six sit back and lie down. He watches him turn over with a teasing look and prop himself up on his knees, ass up, his head laying on his crossed arms. Again and again and again, Siete is struck with the desire to touch everything he can, to explore his body in all states of dress, to feel and hear the little noises that Six makes when he's pleased with the attention. And at the same time, like this, he wants nothing but to watch Six take himself apart with his own hands, his own words and thoughts, the memory of Siete's touch bringing him to completion as Siete does nothing but _watch_.

All the while, the amusement in Six's eyes grows. "Siete."

He swallows, throat dry. "Yeah, that—that's me."

"Will you be doing anything, or should I consider this trial of my stage outfit complete?"

"No, we've…" He gets distracted from his own sentence by watching Six's chest rise and fall with breath, nothing hidden with how tight the fabric is.

Six tilts his head again. "It's rare that you're speechless." His tone of voice is lilting around the edges, entertained by Siete's state.

"Can you blame me?"

The only response he gets is for Six to arch his back slowly, not breaking eye contact as the round plush of his ass grows more pronounced in the pants. He loves when Six moves with confidence, in control of every one of his muscles and moving them exactly how he wants.

He'd wondered why, at no point during the process, Six raised no objection. The bottom half remained the same with only minor changes, but the top half got more and more sparse, Siete pushing his limits. But Six had never voiced concerns other than the breathability of the material, his scope of movement.

Watching the challenge in his eyes now, Siete knows exactly why.

Finally broken from his stupor, Siete gets on the bed behind him, grinding into his ass. He reciprocates by moving his hips back, and Siete leans forward until his chest is against his naked back. His hands come around Six's inner thighs, where the criss-cross of laces holding the tassets are at their tightest, and undoes them, letting them fall to the bed.

Six hums into the touch, letting his legs spread wider as Siete unbuttons his pants, peeling them down to his mid-thigh. The front of his boxers are already damp, and Siete sighs against the small hairs at the base of Six's neck as he feels the outline of his cock against the fabric.

"Siete," he mumbles into the crook of his elbow, leaning back, and Siete kisses between his shoulder blades. "Could we hurry this up?"

"Sure, reach into the pocket of the pants I just took off of your very nice ass, lovely dearest?"

Six rolls his eyes at the nickname and uncrosses his arms to reach down. Siete watches with his chin perched on one of his shoulders, not holding back his laugh as Six's eyes widen at the foil packet he finds in his pocket. "Are you serious?"

"There's lube in the other one, but I'll get it for you." Siete grins, leaving a mark against his skin. He tosses the condom beside him, giving Siete an unamused look as he takes out the packet of lube.

His irritation is short-lived, as it always is during times like this. It fades away to a pleased sigh when Siete removes his boxers, legs spreading apart in anticipation again. One of his hands pushs his top out of the way, hand hovering against his abdomen, and the other goes above his head, fingers starting to twist in the sheets.

He's a sight like this that Siete never wants to forget, one that he wants to see over and over. Groaning, Siete leans forward again, pressing his forehead against the skin of his back starting to become sticky with sweat. Six's ass grinds against him insistently, and Siete's response is to push his legs together until his thighs are closed.

Six makes a questioning noise, and Siete breathes out, hot air against his skin. "I don't feel like taking our time right now."

His cock is straining against his pants, and he sits back up to unbuckle them as quickly as he can, cursing—like he does during times like these—the amount of belts he wears. Six's hand not holding his shirt up has already come down to start pumping his own cock while waiting, parted lips slick with saliva as he licks them and looks back at Siete.

He pulls down his pants and briefs in one go, far enough to sit under his ass, and he takes the lube packet and applies it liberally to his own cock before sliding between the space between Six's thighs.

He chokes when Six flexes the muscles of his thighs even tighter around him, and he nearly misses the small whine that falls out of Six's lips when he pushes his shirt even higher. Siete gives a few experimental thrusts, teasing Six's hole with the head of his cock before thrusting in the space between again. The skin of his thighs is impossibly soft, but the muscles sitting just underneath are firm, and it makes him feel lightheaded.

Swallowing, he grips Six's hips while thrusting into the sweet friction of his thighs, feeling his cock drag against Six's balls, against his hand around himself. Even in this position, the smugness in Six's smile remains as his face rubs against the mattress with Siete's thrusts, and he leans down to kiss it, uncaring about the mess he's making.

It doesn't take long for Six to tense around him and underneath him, his thighs shaking as he comes into his own hand. Siete's close, but seeing Six melt in his hands makes him hunger, wanting nothing more but to complete the ensemble he's hand-crafted. He slides out from the space between his thighs, and Six, still chasing his high, whines and rubs back against him, back arching. Siete holds him still and slides his cock against the cleft of his ass at the same pace, until he comes with a groan of Six's name, spilling his release all over his bare back, across the faded scars and the straps of the stage outfit Siete made for him.

He feels the territorial feeling rise to its own climax as he ruts out the last of his orgasm, looking at Six splayed beneath him, panting. Unable to hold himself up anymore, Six's knees give out underneath him, and Siete catches his hips, turning him over so he's on his back.

Six tugs him closer with his hand not covered in come, and he gives in to the silent request for a cuddle, like Six always wants after their release. He welcomes the kitten kisses against his face, his neck, the hand tangling in the hairs at the base of his neck, and Siete nuzzles back where he can.

It feels like hours pass in each other's embrace, and when Siete finally peels away from him, it's not without reluctance. "I don't wanna get our clothes too dirty."

Six looks up at him, eyes still clouded with the afterglow, and then he nods. "Return swiftly."

"Always." Siete laughs at the formality. He stands up to find them a towel and spare clothes but nearly trips from lightheadedness and the awkward restriction of his pants only down past the curve of his ass. Six snorts as he waddles over to get a clean towel from the drawers. "But you should let me make clothes for you more often," he says as he wipes them down.

"We'd never get anything done," Six mumbles, letting Siete undress him.

"Not true. We'd definitely be doing each other."

Six rolls his eyes and takes the clothes that Siete passes him. The territorial part of him preens at the sight of Six putting them on without fanfare, before curling underneath his sheets, burying his head into the pillow. They may be Six's clothes, but they've been sitting long enough in Siete's drawers to smell like him instead.

He shucks off all his clothes, only opting to put on a new pair of boxers before sliding into the bed in front of Six. Six's eyes remain closed, relaxed, as Siete runs the back of his fingers against his cheek again.

Six huffs. "Your post-coital talk is, as always, of highest calibre."

"I just nutted my brains out on your back, let me say whatever I want."

Six's nose scrunches up and he turns over to face away from him, and Siete laughs, bringing him in closer with an arm around his waist.

**Author's Note:**

> i have another fic with the skin in mind (not established relationship) but writing this was Urgent. i sat down and start to finish it was a straight eight hours  
> "is the purr literal" Who Knows? :)


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